Playing For Love

by J. C. Grant

  My head came up, and I watched him. His intense gaze was searing. But the depth of need I saw in his eyes was gratifying, soothing the ache in my chest. All thoughts of him with anyone else disappeared.

  “You look hot with your face buried in my cunt,” I breathed, feeling like the dominant one as the pleasure coiled tight.

  He moaned into me, low and needy, making my pussy throb. The noises he made, the look in his eyes... Having this beautiful, strong, intimidating man at my mercy was intoxicating, making me feel drunk with power, sending a vicious hunger surging through my veins.

  “David, suck my clit,” I ordered, tugging his hair.

  I gasped when he obeyed, sucking hard.

  My core clenched violently, my thighs quivered, my body shook as my orgasm pumped through me. His arms tightened around my thighs, holding me to his greedy mouth, moaning his approval as he drank in everything I offered. And just like that, I was submissive again, helpless as he devoured my tender flesh.

  Then he was pulling my shorts and panties off.

  “Turn over.” His voice was harsh and demanding.

  My pussy throbbed incessantly as I rolled over.

  “Up on your knees.”

  A thrill ran through me at his gruff order and I obeyed, getting on my hands and knees, bracing for the impact of his cock.

  I felt the sharp sting of his hand on my ass, and my core squeezed viciously. A new flood of heat was dripping from my sex. I was confused and stunned by my body's response.

  “Oh fuck, sweet girl.” He growled low as he nuzzled my sex, pulling me out of my dismay. “You like getting spanked.”

  “I've never been spanked before,” I muttered.

  He made a greedy, satisfied noise, rubbing his lips, nose and scruff against the tender skin. My eyes closed in pleasure. Then he spread my ass cheeks, thumbs digging into my flesh as his tongue licked from my clit to my ass. Slowly. Over and over. Each time giving my ass more attention. I squirmed, uncomfortable with his fixation.

  I couldn't stifle the low moan as he pushed a single finger inside me, focusing on my bundle of nerves. My pussy frantically grasped at his finger. Lost in him, his touch, the wet sound of his finger working inside me, I dropped to my elbows, forehead pressed to the mattress. Submitting completely. Overcome by my body's response to these new sensations.

  “That's it. All the way down,” he muttered.

  I mewled helplessly. My arousal turned to blinding need at the relentless stimulation.

  Within seconds I was thrusting my hips back as his tongue pressed and licked at my puckered flesh. His mouth and chin were covered in my wetness as he ate at me savagely. The excruciating pleasure building was intoxicating. He could have done anything to me and I would have encouraged it, welcomed it, begged for it. Suddenly, my hips jerked against his face as I sobbed unintelligibly through a devastating orgasm. His deep, guttural moan had goose bumps racing over my skin as he held my hips to his marauding mouth and tongue, licking and sucking until my body sagged.

  “Mmm. Yeah, you fucking need my cock.” His tone was smug.

  He easily maneuvered me onto my back, pulling my knees up, my feet flat on the bed. His body covered mine as he settled between my legs, caging me between his strong forearms, he angled his cock and pushed inside with a dark sound of satisfaction.

  I cried out at the painful invasion. My pussy was overstimulated and swollen, tight and hot, from his attention, making him feel bigger, harder. My knees jerked up, trying to make room as my hands limply shoved at his clenched chest, feeling the brutal contours of his muscles.

  Fuck, he felt amazing.

  Everywhere.

  “Goddamn. You're tight.” He held still, letting me adjust.

  “David,” I murmured breathlessly as my sex grasped and pulled, desperate for more at the first taste of his cock in twenty-four hours. I knew this must be what addicts felt like. With his cock buried halfway inside me, stretching me, my world was righted, it was damn near euphoric. All the stress, hurt, and betrayal slipped away with the pain.

  His hands tangled in my hair as his lips claimed mine in a lush kiss, his tongue sliding into my mouth with slow, languid sweeps. Warmth bloomed inside me as suckled his offered tongue, tasting myself on him. I didn't know which was more comforting, the act or knowing I had marked him again.

  He pulled back, his eyes searching mine for a long moment, then he rasped, “Yeah, this is what we need.”

  I didn't respond, I didn't want to think about why we needed it.

  He watched me, his expression unreadable as his hands tightened in my hair, tugging. I moaned as the slight pain on my scalp combined with the stretching sting of his cock.

  “Fuck, I love this pussy. So fucking tight.” He pushed deeper. “Let me in. Take my cock.” His tone was harsh and demanding.

  My panting breaths turned to rasped cries as he forced his way into my clenching cunt. His expression, his movements were raw and primal. Dominant. A strong contradiction to his sincere, sweet words when he spoke.

  “I got you, sweetheart.” His body lifted off me as one of his hands left my hair, snaking down between us, finding my clit, rubbing gently. His eyes were locked on our joined bodies, watching. “It's fucked up how much I love that it hurts you.”

  He thrust deeper, forcing a small, wounded noise from me.

  “Oh, fuck.” His eyes closed in pleasure as a shiver ran through him. “That's so fucking hot.”

  He massaged my clit, working his vicious length in deeper.

  “David,” I whimpered, shifting, trying to find relief from his punishing size.

  “I love watching you. The way you squirm. The way you whimper.” His fingers left me then. His arm came up, caging me again. He pulled out before slamming in with a brutal force.

  My hands flew to his biceps, bracing myself. Then I felt it. My body craving his dominance. The pain. Something dark in me needed his aggression.

  “Yeah,” he groaned as his eyes closed, a helpless expression crossing his face. When he looked at me again, he warned, “This is gonna be rough.”

  I nodded, my fingers squeezing his muscled arms. I was ready. I needed it.

  He pulled out again, pausing, giving me a chance to protest. His hungry gaze locked on mine. I saw the triumphant gleam in his eyes. He had conquered the distance I had created. He knew he owned me. He knew he could do anything he wanted to me.

  He thrust in, his muscles straining with the effort. His pace quickly turned brutal, his heavy thighs pushing mine wider with each painful lunge. Each impact forced a cry from me. He licked up my pulse before capturing my lips, kissing me deeply, reverently, his hands holding my head gently.

  “Fuck, I love you,” he swore against my lips, his hips lunging in that vicious rhythm. “I'd never cheat on you. I've been obsessed with you since I met you.”

  I tried to ignore his too perfect words, not willing to be fooled. But the pain was lessening, the pleasure winning, my cries turning to moans. My body relaxed, accepting.

  “Yeah. Let go. Just relax and take it.”

  My eyes closed as I concentrated on his hard body working above me, filling me, stretching me. He ended his thrust with a hard grind into my clit, and my muscles tensed. I shuddered as the first sparks of ecstasy shot through me, wiping away my concerns of too perfect words. His hips moved faster, forcing a violent orgasm to pound through me.

  “Yeah,” he growled. “Come for me. Come all over that big cock.”

  My body, helpless under his command, trembled, his raw words causing another ripple to wash over me.

  “So good,” he groaned as his hand moved back to my clit, working me expertly, wringing every drop of my orgasm out of my quaking body. “Fucking perfect. Just like that.”

  *****

  “Austin.” I heard David rasp. “Who's Tara?”

  That cut through my sleep-fogged brain.

  “What?”

  “Who's Tara? She just texted you,” he rumbled, groggily.<
br />
  “Where is she?” I asked, starting to get up.

  Tara was my only true friend in LA. We had a deal—if we ever got stuck somewhere, we would call each other before we would call a cab or scary über—you never knew what type of person was going to show up with those.

  “Wait. Where are you going?” His fingers closed around my upper arm, stilling me.

  “I need to pick her up, David.”

  “Are you serious? It's three in the morning.”

  “Give me my phone.” I held my hand out.

  “It's on your nightstand,” he responded.

  Oh, that's right.

  He didn't need to have my phone anymore to go through it.

  I checked the missed text message.

  Tara: Pick.me.up.

  2:56 AM

  Yep. She's drunk.

  Austin: Where are you, freak?

  2:58 AM

  Dragging myself into the massive walk-in closet, I started digging through my drawers. David was standing behind me seconds later.

  “You really think I'm letting you leave the house at three in the fucking morning?” His sleep-rough voice barked as I fastened by bra.

  “The really funny part is, you thinking you can stop me.” I grabbed a pair of leggings and a big tee. “She's drunk. She needs a ride. This is an arrangement we've had for years.”

  He watched me for a moment.

  “You've never said anything about this girl,” he argued as I struggled for balance while pulling on my leggings.

  His big, strong hands covered my ribcage, keeping me upright. Sometimes it was annoying how comforting his simple touch was.

  “I see her a couple times a month for a girls’ night. She normally hangs with her brother or her gays.”

  “Her gays?” His hands didn't move right away when I reached for the tee.

  “That's what she calls them, ‘my gays.’ Remember you haven't known me two full weeks yet.” I pulled on my tee and slipped on the pink flip-flops sitting on the floor.

  “What's a girls’ night include?”

  Fuck. I'm not awake enough for this.

  “David, not right now,” I muttered as I walked past him to check my phone.

  Tara: Rosevlt

  3:02 AM

  “She's at the Roosevelt. I won't be gone long,” I called out. Then I looked up from my phone.

  He was pulling on jeans.

  “I'm going with you,” he informed harshly. “You're not setting a foot out of this house without me, especially with that crazy bitch running around town.” He yanked a black tank over his head at the same time as he slid into his flip-flops. Then he grabbed his hat off the closet island. “Let's take the truck in case she pukes.”

  I'm sure I had a crazy look on my face as I tried to figure out how taking the most expensive car in the garage made sense.

  “We use it the least,” he responded, trying not to laugh at me as he put his hat on, pulling it low. “We won't miss it if has to be professionally cleaned.”

  I made a small noise in answer then followed him out to the garage.

  Fifteen minutes later, we pulled in front of the Roosevelt. One thing I loved about staying out in LA, after two a.m., the streets were wide open. Not that people weren't out and about, but it was only a small percent, making the normally jammed streets feel like a ghost town.

  “Do you see her? What does she look like?” David asked.

  “Same as me on paper,” I muttered distractedly. “But a size two and her hair is longer.”

  “Brown hair, green eyes, olive skin, same height?”

  “Yep.” I looked, but there were too many people milling around still. I opened the door and muttered, “I'll be right back.”

  “Austin, don't. I'll go.”

  Turning back to look at him as I got out, I momentarily forgot what I was going to say. He looked unbelievably sexy in his black tank and hat, my eyes trailed over the angle of his jaw and the strong muscles of his neck.

  Fuck me, I had to push away the images of him and the things he'd done to me only a few hours before. “Uh... She doesn't know you. That's the whole reason we do this. So we don't end up at the mercy of some stranger.”

  I shut the door and tried to shake off my hot husband stupor. I started toward the entrance, getting a couple of looks as I walked past.

  “Where have you been? This guy's trying to take me home.” I heard her loud voice.

  Turning in the direction it came, I spotted her in a silver micro-mini dress. It was times like these I was envious of her skinny ass. She looked like she'd stepped out of a music video, a good one, like one of Gaga's. Not those cheap shitty ones.

  “Hey. You okay? Where's Tom?” I asked when her boney arms wrapped around me.

  “Oh, my God. I don't know. We came here together. Poof. He disappeared on me. I called and called. Nothing,” she said drunkenly.

  He had to be getting laid, that was the only reason he would bail on her. Still, it was a shitty thing to do.

  “You have your purse? Your keys?”

  “Yes. Yes. Yes,” she said, holding her purse out.

  I started walking back to the car, her skinny self dragging me down as she clung to me, her arms around my waist still trying to hug me as we walked.

  “Need help?” The deep, throaty rumble resonated, flowing over my body like a seductive caress.

  Looking away from Tara, I saw David standing in front of us, looking every bit the sex god I knew he was.

  “Hey, I know you,” she slurred slightly. “Yeah, we need a ride.”

  “See why we have this system?” I asked, catching David's eye as he flanked her other side, helping me keep her upright.

  “She said she knows me.” His cocky expression and tone irritated me as much as it amused me.

  “Whoa. Wait! Are we really getting in his car?” Tara asked soberly as we walked her to the truck.

  I took a deep breath. “Tara, this is my husband. Husband, this is Tara.”

  David laughed, a low husky sound as a beautiful smile broke across his face.

  “No, you didn't,” she said scandalized, looking between us, trying to figure out if we were messing with her.

  “Get in,” I said, as David opened the back door on the Range Rover.

  “For real?” she whispered to me as she crawled into the back.

  I shook my head at David's pleased expression, his big smile firmly in place.

  When I started getting in the back, David purred, “Sit up front with me.” Effortlessly seducing me.

  “Be our chauffeur for fifteen minutes?”

  He huffed an exaggerated sigh and shut the door behind me. I settled next to Tara and saw that big smile break across his face again. It was a blend of sexy and so genuinely happy it made me hurt. And it made me want to ride his face until I came.

  Now, all I want to do is fuck his face.

  My thighs rubbed together, subconsciously trying to ease my throbbing sex.

  When David got in, he glanced at me in the rearview mirror, his eyes knowing.

  I shook my head at him, grinning.

  “What's your name?” Tara started interrogating David.

  “Austin's husband,” he responded, looking at me in the rearview with that smile.

  “No. Seriously—wait,” Tara cut herself off. “Don't tell me. I recognize you.” She turned to me but was talking to herself. “Not an actor. Not a musician... Sports.” She lurched forward between the seats.

  This was typical Tara. Part of me felt like I should help David, but part of me felt like he needed a reality check—that he knew very little about me. And part of me wanted him to suffer whatever indignities she was about to make him endure, because I was not cool with his omission about Dawn. Hot sex had shut my brain off and I was avoiding dealing with it, but I was nowhere near okay about this Dawn thing.

  “The David!” she half yelled in his face.

  “Just David,” he corrected quietly.

  Tara
sat back next to me. “Did you really marry him? Oh. My. God! I read something about him getting married.”

  “Yes, we're married. Wednesday night,” I confirmed.

  “Oh, shit, is he your fame ticket?” she whisper-yelled.

  My eyes darted to the mirror to see David quietly laughing.

  “No.”

  “It's real?” she asked excitedly. “Are you fucking him?”

  “Yeah,” I laughed.

  “You better not fucking hurt her. Or I'll fuck you up, The David.” She jabbed her finger in the air toward him.

  Her threat was comical, but extremely sweet.

  “How's he? I bet he's good, right? I mean the athlete thing has to help, right? Is his dick big?” She seamlessly shifted back into girlie mode, bombarding me with questions.

  “Okay,” David reprimanded.

  “What? Is it tiny?” Tara was getting louder and more excited by the minute.

  “Austin, where we goin'?” His annoyance was clear in his voice.

  I wasn't sure what line was crossed, but I was a little shocked he wouldn't want to brag about the size of his dick.

  “Universal city,” we answered simultaneously.

  “Don't worry, The David.” Tara said “The David” in a pretty good imitation of a baseball announcer’s voice. “You are not my type. I like skinny rocker boys. All your muscles gross me out.” Tara was blunt and unthinkingly callous, which was why we got along so well.

  “Good.” David's relaxed, sexy rumble was back, doing all kinds of things to my body.

  “So his dick…” Tara prodded.

  I bit my lip, glancing at the mirror. I kept my hands low in my lap as I showed her his size using my hands.

  “I knew it,” she said far too loudly.

  Glancing up again, I saw David glaring at me, but with his growing smirk, it lost its weight.

  “He is so big. I knew it had to be huge,” she went on as if David wasn't sitting right there, as per usual Tara style.

  “Where am I going after I get to Universal?” David uselessly tried to derail the conversation.

  “The Warner Brothers side of Universal,” we responded in unison.